Banned Footage
by TheRedApple
Summary: Disturbing stories centered around ill-fated characters mentioned within Resident Evil 7. Banned Footage gives a glimpse of past victims of the Baker family and what became of them.
1. Double Dare

Oct. 31, 2016 10:27 PM

Stanley

Abandoned House

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"Double Dare"

Found among a pile of scattered bones

S-VHS

* * *

"Why are you filming? You're such a dweeb Stanley" Phil whined with a scowl, shooting his fellow 8th grade classmate and usual play toy, Stanley, a dirty look. Timmy, Phil's buddy who also took part in making Stanley, and everyone else who's 'different', lives impossible, let out his signature class clown laugh while stuffing his round face with a bag of potato chips as they made their way down a dirt road.

"I-It's for a class project…" Stanley murmured, his head bowed as his tried to stay as low and quiet and invisible as possible to avoid Phil's cruelty. He had just finished trick-r-treating alone, as per usual, when he ran into the duo, who were busy spending their time TPing houses and stealing candy from fourth graders for Halloween. Stanley, on the other hand, was avoiding going home and having to listen to his alcoholic stepfather or trying to help his pill-popping mother to bed.

"Give it here" Phil demanded, swiping the camera from Stanley's grasp and shoving his face in the lense as he joked around and made funny faces that only served to somehow make him even more ugly. Timmy just laughed, like he does every time Phil does anything.

"Please don't break it. It was a gift and I can't return it" Stanley pleaded, trying, and failing, to get it back as Phil just shoved him aside. "From who? Can't be your junkie of a mother. Did your dad buy you this? Not the alco but the one who ran away as soon as you were born?" Phil asked, with a certain venom in his voice. "My dad...my real dad…left it for me as a gift. It's the only thing I have so please don't break it" Stanley said, stopping himself from crying in front of his bullies.

"Whatever loser, here ya go" Phil said, nonchalantly tossing the camera over his shoulder and in Stanley's direction, with him narrowly catching it. They continued walking down the dirt road as crows circled overhead, squawking for no particular reason. There was a full moon in the sky and a sharp coldness in the air. Phil knew where they were going, even if the other two didn't.

"Man, where the f are we going? I have to be home before midnight ya know. My rents are going to be sooooo pissed with me if I'm late" Timmy whined, tossing the empty bag of potato chips in a ditch. "Shut it Cinders, you'll be home before midnight. We have to make a little detour first". Timmy pushed his way through a thorn bush as Phil used his phone to light the way. "A _little_ detour? We've been walking for like forever. Can't we just go back, there's nothing in this swamp 'cept gators" Timmy continued to whine, making fatigued faces, and noticeably trailing behind both Stanley and Phil. Phil shushed him, holding a finger up to his own mouth as he crouched behind a tree and told them to lay low. "I hear something", he said as he held a hand to his ear as if to hear more acutely.

"Probably a gator. Dude let's just go there ain't nothin' out here" Timmy moaned but kept his mouth shut when Phil shot him a look. "I swear to God I heard somethin'. Phil started moving again, pushing his past a few thorn bushes and back onto another dirt path. He stood upright and shined his light around but failed to spot anything other than a few mosquito's flying around in the dark.

"Damn. I'm sure I heard somethin'. I swear I heard somethin'." Phil stomped his foot before staring at the others as if it was their fault. "Can we just go back now. C'mon man I don't like this" Timmy held his arms up to his chest, trying to warm himself up.

"You're such a goddamn pussy Timmy. Grow a pair for will ya. We aren't turning back now but if you want you can find your own way back. Good luck not getting eaten by a gator" Phil said, instantly knowing Timmy would be too afraid to turn back.

"Alright…let's go. But can you at least just tell us we're we are going". As they pushed through the shrubbery Phil stopped; "We are going right…here" he said, emphasising the last word, holding his arms up to the mammoth property that loomed over them.

"Nah, no way. Jesus man I am not going in that hellhole. Haven't you heard the stories? That place is fucking haunted" Timmy stated, stepping further away from the large plantation. Stanley lowered his camera, both in awe and fear of the gigantic manor that stood ahead of them. The place almost seemed like it was alive, like it was staring back at them. An instant shiver ran down his body and he couldn't help but look away. He could always sense these things and he knew, for sure, that something was _wrong._

"Bawk Bawk Bawk! You lil' pussy. Stanley here is more of a man than you, isn't that right Stanley?" Phil draped an arm over Stanley's shoulder, who had gone noticeably whiter than his already pale complexion. He ruffled Stanley's curly auburn hair to get his attention. Stanley jumped back in fright, staring at the taller boy. "Erm…yeah. I mean…" he trailed off.

"See! Now are you going to stand there all night like a bitch or are you going to come with us. Tick tock". Timmy took one more look at the house before shutting his eyes hard, knowing he was about to make a massive mistake, as he agreed to go with them. "Good. Let's go" Phil attempted to open the gate in front of the manor but found it chained shut.

"Hey dude maybe it's like a sign. That, y'know, we should just get the hell outta here" Timmy whispered. Phil just sighed and turned back to Timmy, grabbing his by his collar. "Listen to me alright? We go when I say we go. Now have I said that we are going?" Phil kept his hold on Timmy's collar, clearly frightening the pudgier and blonde haired boy. "Um…no" he gulped. "Exactly. No. Now shut the fuck up unless you want the same treatment that Johnson kid got" Phil barked in Timmy's face before dropping the boy back to the ground, leaving him physically shaken.

Stanley immediately regretted everything he had done that night. He regretted going trick-r-treating, he regretted taking the short route home, he regretted telling his mom he wished she was dead and, most of all, he regretted ever knowing Phil Monroe. He knew nothing good could come out this night, but he never could have predicted what was in store for them.

"Gate's locked and someone had the bright idea of putting barbed wire on the top so we'll have to find another way in. C'mon, this way" Phil motioned towards a winding pathway leading down towards the side of the manor. Stanley and the others continued walking in the darkness, every noise making him even more aware of his situation from the noises of the crows, owls and crickets to the cold wind blowing on the back of his necks and the occasional snapping of branches in the distance causing him to question whether they were really alone out here.

Eventually they came to a large drop which would undoubtedly be difficult to climb back up from. "I'm not sure about this. I saw a weird doll back there and I don't think we're alone" Stanley said, just loud enough for them to hear him. "Aw look at the little baby. I thought you were a man Stanley. But you're just as much of a pussy as your old man was, aren't ya? You just going to run away like he did or are you going to come with us" Phil closed in on Stanley, trying to intimidate the younger boy.

After several moments that felt like hours Stanley finally bit his lower lip and nodded his head, eyes closed, and a creeping feeling of dread within him. Phil patted his shoulder hard, "Attaboy!", as he was the first to drop down over the edge. Timmy looked at Stanley with empathy and worry, a look Stanley had never seen before and a look that reminded him that Timmy wasn't really a monster. He was just stupid. Timmy broke from their look and followed Phil with a heavy sigh. Stanley was tempted to just turn back, to leave the pair to whatever awaited them. But he couldn't. Phil's words had affected Stanley, as they usually did, and he wasn't going to be labelled a coward like the man who gave his sperm to help the creation process. So, he dropped down after them.

"Wow, would you look at that" Phil said to Timmy as they stood in front of a smaller and decrepit old house. Stanley caught up to the pair as they made it to the front door. He couldn't help but stare at the swing chair, which seemed to be swinging more than it should. "I didn't even know this place existed" Timmy said in disbelief as Phil slowly pushed open the ajar door and entered. "God it stinks in here!" Timmy retched as he quickly reached a hand up to his face. "Something must be dead in here. That smell ain't right" Phil said calmly as they continued down a tight hallway, looking at the dust covered frames and hanging cobwebs.

Stanley turned his head just in time to see the door close slowly as they made their way out of the hallway and into the kitchen. "Hey…you guys I-I think someone is here…I mean I think someone just-" Phil cut him off with a loud chuckle as he opened the microwave to find a rotten crow inside. "Anyone want roasted crow? Heard it tastes like chicken" he laughed as he quickly shut the microwave door and turned his attention to the kitchen table, which was littered with disgusting food and what appeared to be a black moldy substance. "Film this Stanley, this looks so rad" Timmy said as he pushed the black mold between his fingers.

"What a dump. How could anyone live in a shithole like this" Phil said kicking a chair onto the ground and heading for the hallway. "So, what's the deal with this place anyway? Did they just pack up and leave or, like, die or somethin'. What the fuck?" Timmy admired an old painting of a person wearing a sack over their head. "Oh, you don't know? Well, the story goes that the son, John or Jack or whatever, was this complete nutjob freak who killed all his family and hid them in the bayou. He ran away or some shit and no one has ever seen him since. Some say he's still out there…in the swamp. Waiting for anyone to come on by".

"And then what…" Timmy asked, his eyes wide and very awake. "And then...he RIPS YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF" Phil screamed as he jumped at Timmy, causing the boy to fall backwards and into a small enclosed area just under the stairs.

"Jesus, shit! You almost scared me to death man. _Not_ funny!" Timmy shouted as he got to his feet with the help of Stanley. Phil was almost rolling on the ground with laughter, his laughing echoing off the damp walls and shooting back at them. "Oh my God! You should have seen your face! Fucking priceless" Phil remained in tears as he tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard.

"Asshole" Timmy muttered under his breath but was loud enough for Stanley to hear and smirk about. "And what are you smirking about, huh? If my mom was as big a whore as yours I wouldn't be smirking about anything" Phil mocked, looking over at Timmy who instead looked away in disgust. Phil remained staring at Timmy for a moment before turning his attention to Stanley, a cruel idea popping into his head.

"Hey, Stanley. I'm sorry man. Look I didn't mean it, ok? Can we start over?" Phil said in a still slightly mocking tone but Stanley didn't want a confrontation. He just wanted to go home. "Ok" he said, knowing full well that Phil wasn't capable of being empathetic.

"I didn't tell you'se the full story y'know. About the family that lived here. Remember those college girls that went missing last fall? I heard that they found one of them…" Phil whispered. "No way! They never found any of them. Apparently, gators got them" Timmy said. "Naw, they found one. Cept she wasn't alive. She had been trapped, starved, locked away for weeks. And they found her in there…" Phil pointed to a small door under the stairs, slightly ajar with no clear light on the other side.

"Bullshit! C'mon wouldn't that have been in the news. Why would she be-" Timmy tried to argue but stopped immediately after a quick nudge by Phil, which went unnoticed by Stanley. "Oh…Ok. Well, erm, maybe I did here something" Timmy shrugged his shoulders. "Really?" Stanley enquired, feeling as if Timmy would be a bit more truthful than Phil. "Yeah…I mean I guess" Timmy couldn't make eye contact with Stanley. He felt awful. "Hey Stanley. I dare you to go under there. Just for two minutes" Phil said. "No. No way. I-I can't…I don't like the dark. I mean I just can't…" Stanley stepped away from the door.

"You don't like the dark? What are you, five? It's just two minutes, c'mon. You can prove you're a real man unlike your shithead of a dad. Look we'll even leave the door open. We'll be right here, swear" Phil held his hand up to his heart and Stanley couldn't help but feel the dark-haired boy was lying to him. It wouldn't be the first time Phil had played a cruel prank on another kid. He once put a firecracker in another boy's shoe but his dad, a local politician, got him out of trouble.

Phil looked at Timmy, waiting for him to back him up. Eventually he did: "I-I double dare you to go into that room…just for two minutes! C'mon Stanley, then we can leave" there was a sense of pleading in Timmy's words and Stanley wanted to get out of there more than anyone so, reluctantly and with a sigh, he walked towards the little room, each step making his heart beat faster than the last. He finally made it to the entrance of the room as Phil called out his name once again. "Hey, why don't you give us the camera. No point in bringing it in with you, is there. We'll look after it" Phil grinned, holding his hand out for Stanley to place the camera into. Stanley felt like he was making the worst decision of his life but, for some reason, he agreed to let Phil have his camera for the next two minutes and placed it in his hand before entering the enclosed room.

Phil tried to hold his laughter as he pointed the camera towards the room and motioned towards Timmy, whispering something in his ear. Timmy stepped back in shock, giving Phil the most disgusted and ashamed face imaginable. "Just do it" Phil snapped before Timmy moved towards the door.

Stanley was reminded of his childhood. When he was younger, and smaller, his stepdad would sometimes lock him inside a closet after yet another alcohol fuelled rage. He would spend hours inside that closet, until his mother awoke from her stupor and saved him. One time she was unconscious for too long. He urinated on himself and was beaten with a belt when his stepdad finally opened the closet door. He had forgotten that memory, or hid it away deep inside, until he entered the enclosed room.

Just then the door closed shut as Timmy put all his weight against it, trapping Stanley inside. Phil's hyena like laughter started up again as he filmed Timmy pushing himself up against the door and Stanley's cries for help. "Calm down Stanley! We've decided to up the time until ten minutes!" Phil threw his head back with laughter as Timmy tried to hold the door shut, surprised at Stanley's strength, and quickly wishing he had never became friends with Phil.

As Stanley tried clawing at the door and cried for mercy, Phil's attention was drawn to something he could see just out of the corner of his eye. He slowly drew his attention to the mirror across the hall, a single crack running down the middle. That's when he saw it. A woman in the reflection. Moving down the hall towards them. Or at least she resembled a woman. That's when he saw her face, and her eyes.

"What the…" he said in disbelief as she jumped into his view, her black eyes and sickly complexion grinning at him in a way that made him physically stop, dropping the camera onto the ground, shattering the lense as she grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him across the hall, his head making brutal contact with the mirror and shattering it, a large shard coming down upon the back of his neck, piercing his skin and forcing him to jump back in shock. The woman ripped the large shard of glass from his neck as he came face to face with her horrifying grin once again as her long hair draped over her face. "Die!" she screamed as he felt the shard pierce his chest multiple times, her frenzied attack not even giving him a chance to properly defend himself. He felt his legs go numb, his body shake from the inside out, as his eyes were covered with his own blood and he desperately failed to use the side of the stairs for support and quickly slumped to the ground, still not understanding what had just happened.

Timmy, who remained in shock throughout Phil's attack, completely broke from his trance as he heard Phil hit the ground like a tonne of bricks. He acted quickly, opening the door and freeing a panicked Stanley in the process. "What's going on!?" Stanley tried asking but Timmy grabbed his arm and pulled him in the opposite direction of the knife wielding woman. "No time!" he shouted over his shoulder as they ran through another doorway and into another hallway. "Can't be real. Can't be real" Timmy repeated to himself as they looked for a way out of the property but only found barricaded window and blood trails with missing people posters and newspaper clippings splashed across the walls. "We have to find a way out of here" Stanley shook Timmy into reality and he nodded his head as they went back into the hallway to search another room. They were forced to race down the hallway after the woman appeared before them, now wielding a chainsaw which she revved in their faces.

"The windows are all shut! All shut!" Timmy screamed as he paced around in a circle, his eyes wide and his face a deathly colour. "We have to go down here" Stanley pulled Timmy towards a gate which seemed to lead down into a dark basement. "No, no. Bad idea. We can't!" Timmy tried to pull away but Stanley forced him down the steps as the crazed woman made her way down the hallway towards them, holding the chainsaw above her head and laughing maniacally. He shut the gate behind him and followed Timmy down the wooden stairs.

They entered another room and Timmy ran straight into a single hanging body bag, invisible in the dark, and fell to the ground as he hit his head off the hard concrete causing a small bleed. "Get up! C'mon get up!" Stanley cried as he pulled Timmy up from the ground, oblivious to the footsteps behind him. "Hello there! Were do you think you are going, son?" a tall and intimidating figure emerged from the darkness with a tyre iron in hand. "Help us! Please we need help!" Timmy begged as he approached the older man. "Help? I'll help you to the fridge boy because that's exactly where you are going piggy!" the man let out a deep and loud chuckle as he brought the tyre iron down upon Timmy's head, immediately causing Timmy's legs to go beneath him and the boy to crash to the ground. As Timmy tried to regain his bearings the older man stared right into Stanley's eyes; "Watch this, boy!" he shouted as he raised the tyre iron and brought it down upon Timmy's face, splattering blood all over the room and onto Stanley who remained in shock as he stared at one of his formers bullies mutilated face, an eye now hanging out of his head and coughing up both teeth and blood as the old man continued to beat his head in with the tyre iron until it was nothing but a bloody pulp sprayed across the cement floor.

The man, smiling wildly, turned his attention to Stanley and began his way towards him, patting the tyre iron on his hand as his shadow loomed over Stanley. Something inside Stanley shook him from his terror and ran for the exit, everything inside of him screaming, his head full of every mistake he had made that night, every choice that had lead him to that moment. "You ain't getting away!" the voice beamed as Stanley made it to the stairs. Then he saw Timmy. Saw his face as the tyre iron destroyed it. His hand outstretched, pleading for help that would not come. Then he saw the steps. The steps that never seemed to end. He ran up those steps faster than he ever thought he could as the laughter from the madman rang through his ears. He couldn't look back. An unimaginable fate was behind him. And it was coming for him.

Stanley burst through the gate, not even thinking about the insane chainsaw psychopath from before. He just had to escape. Had to get out of that house. He started taking larger steps as he turned the corner and burst through into the next hallway, the laughter now more faint but still there. Still close. He made it back to the stairs and saw the massive pool of blood that was once part of the boy who he despised. As he turned the corner into the kitchen that boy fell onto him, covered from head to toe in blood, his face barely recognisable. "H-help…me…p-pleeeease…help…" he vomited blood as he fell to his knees and Stanley tried to pull him up to his feet. He hated Phil, but he knew he couldn't just let him die.

Stanley through Phil's arm over his shoulder and tried to support the boy as they limped out of the kitchen and into the long and narrow hallway leading to the exit. Stanley was very aware that the manic laughter from the madman in the basement had just became far too loud. Yet, he still couldn't look over his shoulder. The two limped towards the exit, so close and yet so far away too. It was like a shining beacon. If they could just make it maybe they could escape into the dense and expansive swamp. Phil was coughing up more blood. Stanley was sure Phil wouldn't make it but he had no choice. He wasn't a coward, he wasn't going to leave him behind. He wasn't going to abandon him like his father had done to him.

As they made for the door a figure emerged from the right, hidden behind the door leading to the backdoor. The hooded figure, his wide grin the only noticeable feature, raised a shotgun into the air with one arm, the boys immediately stopping as he went from pointing it at Stanley to pointing it at Phil, almost as if he was doing "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe". Stanley quickly realised that it was exactly what he was doing as the hooded figure landed on moe, and Phil. Within seconds Phil was blown away, a massive gaping hole now in the middle of his chest as Stanley watched the light fade from his eyes, and finally saw the humanity in him that he never expressed in life. If only for a second before he crumpled to the ground, dead.

Stanley brought his eyes back towards the hooded figure, who was now smiling even wider as he looked at something beyond Stanley, over his shoulder. Dread filled him, and sorrow. He wasn't getting out of that house. He wasn't getting going to get all the things he said he would in life. He was never going to escape from that town, from his abusive stepfather and his constantly depressed mother. He was going to die right there, alone and scared. He didn't have a choice. He looked over his shoulder and saw the man, the older maniac from the basement.

"Welcome to the family, son!"

Stanley awoke at an unknown time, his head pounding and his mouth filled with blood. A single tooth on the floor. It took him a moment to realise he was in complete darkness, and very much alone. That's when he heard hammering and discovered he was back inside the room under the stairs. "No no no no no no" he cried, tears running down his face as he banged and hit and threw his body weight against the door, hearing the familiar chuckling coming from just outside. He screamed as another nail was hammered into the door, hammered into his coffin. He cried, begged, screamed, and shouted but to no avail. Eventually everything went quiet. He was now completely alone, save for his camera which was inside the room with him. He was stuck inside this enclosed space and wanted nothing more than his mom to come and save him. He cried and cradled himself in a fetal position. He switched between this and clawing at the door, his nails digging into the wood but having no real effect.

Hours passed, then days, and then he wasn't so sure anymore. Stanley could feel his body weakening. His nails were now all but gone, embedded inside the door. His fingers were bleeding, his body was on fire. Everything inside him was screaming and he was _starving._ He could feel his body giving up and the room stank of faeces and urine and death. His eyes continued to dim and he could feel his left eye going completely. After a couple more days it did. By then his mouth was barren and empty, the blood had dried and he could both taste and smell it. It was the only thing he could smell. He has tried drinking his own blood because he was so thirsty, but it failed to work and left him feeling more drained. He had tried drinking his own urine and was left with the same feeling. Eventually he was forced to eat his own faeces, but vomited the waste all over the ground and walls. He used that as a pillow to try and sleep on. Memories and nightmares kept him awake. Pain from his past seemed to overshadow the pain from his present. He would stare into the camera and leaves messages, unsure of whether it was even recording. He thought about his mother, whether she's notice him gone. Whether anyone would notice he wasn't there. At least Phil and Timmy's family would know, they'd care, but Stanley had no one. He continued to remind himself of this fact. Using his faeces, he wrote a simple message on the wall. 'I don't hate you', it read.

Eventually, by now unable to move and praying for death to come, Stanley slipped into death after seven days, staring into the camera, now an emaciated and withered figure.


	2. Mardi Gras Couple

Feb. 28, 2017 10:59 PM

Travis

Furnace Room

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"Mardi Gras Couple"

Annoying Vermin

S-VHS

* * *

"Travis, look!" Courtney enthused, turning Travis around on the spot and pointing towards a giant fake multi-colored clown head hovering in the Mardi Gras parade. "Isn't this amazing?" Courtney beamed, her pearly white smile stretched across her face as she took out her camera and filmed the crowds amassed on the streets of New Orleans. Laughter, cries and howls echoed through the narrow and historic streets. Travis found it difficult to distinguish between the laughter and the screams and pondered on how easy it would be to take someone's life in the crowds, how no one would be aware of the heinous act as they would just assume it was shrieks of joy. The thought disturbed Travis, and he turned his attention back to his wife whose beautiful gap-toothed smile always brought him up from depths of despair.

The vacationing couple lived and worked in Illinois, Travis as a writer and Courtney a photographer, but they traditionally attended the Mardi Gras festivities in Louisiana, Courtney's father having been born there. Travis would be lying if he said their marriage hadn't been rocky. There were certainly a mixture of ups and downs although he liked to think the ups overshadowed the crushing downs. Courtney miscarried only months after their wedding which, seemingly unlike other couples, only served to bring them closer together despite it becoming clear that Courtney wouldn't be able to naturally give birth. The IVF, unfortunately, did not bring them closer together. Two failed attempts and several years of late nights wandering how things could have gotten so bad brought the couple to breaking point, furthering the increasing divide between them, and for some time Travis was unsure they would come back from that pit of misery that surrounded them.

Ultimately, they confronted each other on what they wanted in life, Travis revealing that he'd always wanted a child of his own but that he'd sacrifice that dream in a heartbeat if it meant he'd lose Courtney. Courtney confessed that she was willing to try one more time, that she had the strength to try a final time and that she wanted nothing more than them to have a baby of their own, to give Travis the child he always wanted. So, they tried again. And now, as they stood in the beautifully lit streets of New Orleans, Courtney was three months pregnant.

"I love you Travis" she cooed, resting her auburn colored head on the dark-haired man's shoulder as they walked, holding hands, towards their car, her emerald eyes still fixated on the parade. "You too", he replied simply. He was never particularly good with emotional stuff, likely stemming from being raised in an emotionally repressed military family, but he knew from the bottom of his heart that Courtney was the only woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And he intended to do just that.

"I was thinking Emily for a girl but I'm not sure on a boy's name. Maybe Winston like your Grandfather?" Courtney pondered, rubbing her hand over the ever-growing baby bump beneath her charcoal jumper as they sat in the car. "No, I don't think I really want to inflict years of bullying on our unborn child just yet" Travis joked, turning the keys, and starting the car up. "You have no idea how happy I am that you just said that" Courtney smiled as she began to film the parade again from the passenger seat.

"The hotel we're staying in got pretty good reviews on ' _Weekend Planner'_. I hope it has air conditioning" Courtney worried, wrinkling her forehead. "I'm sure it will, stop stressing. You know what the Doc said about stress" Travis reminded his wife. "Yes, yes I know. 'Dr. Pain' was very clear about her stance on stress…and alcohol, exercise, what to eat, what way to sleep, how to sit on a toilet…and the list goes on" Courtney replied sarcastically, twiddling her hair in her fingers. "'Dr Pain'? That's a new one. She seemed ok to me" Travis said, keeping his hazel eyes focused intently on the road. "Tell me that again after she sticks her hand up _your_ vagina" Courtney joked, as the car hummed out of the city and onto the stretching country roads.

Courtney decided to take a few minutes shut eye but Travis decided not to wake her when that few minutes turned into few hours. Travis never knew anyone as hardworking as Courtney and she needed the rest after such a long day. Truth be told Travis wasn't so sure on them coming all the way to Louisiana this year and was going to cancel the festivity before Courtney revealed that she had everything planned in advance, as a surprise and because she knew Travis needed a break; from worry, paranoia, and his computer.

He had been working on a new novel for quite some time after his first breakthrough success with ' _In the Woods'_ , a horror/thriller novel based on superstitious tales he was told around the campfire during his childhood in rural Texas. After that, however, the miscarriage and multiple failed attempts at IVF meant he had to put aside his dream of a trilogy of tales, for much longer than he anticipated. Now that Courtney was pregnant he could finally get back to writing but as a sort of tragic curse, he found himself suffering with writer's block.

The trip was not only an acknowledgement of their sacrifices, that the worst was behind them, but also a passage for Travis to revitalize his creative mind. Unfortunately, that had yet to happen, but he remained confident that the trip would at least de-stress them a little bit after the last few chaotic and emotionally draining months. Travis couldn't help but take little peaks at Courtney. 'How did I ever get so lucky', he thought to himself. Sometimes he had to pinch himself just to mind him that it isn't all just one big long dream. He found himself grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, thinking of that little poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks in rural Texas and wandering how he ever made it so far when everything seemed so against him.

Travis found himself feeling drowsy and more than a little tired as he yawned to himself, partly to break the silence that enveloped the car. Besides Courtney's mild and occasional snores the car was completely silent. Travis had tried to listen to the radio but only found religious fundamentalist channels or local 'news' channels which consisted of information about cow fairs and UFO sightings. They really were in the middle of nowhere, or in the middle of a bayou to be exact. Eventually the radio went completely, changing to static which unnerved Travis more than the silence. As he found himself closing his eyes more often he was about to pull over when something caught his eye. There, in the middle of the road, he could vaguely perceive a figure, standing still in the rain.

"What the fuck?" he said aloud, alerting Courtney who awoke suddenly. "Umm what's wrong?" she moaned, wiping her eyes. "Nothing honey. Just stay inside the car, alright?" Travis said cautiously as he took his phone and stepped outside into the dark and raining night. "Travis?..." Courtney called out, her voice muffled by the heavy rain. Travis used his phone to light the way towards the figure, who remained on the spot like they were frozen. He quickly discovered the person was female, and wearing nothing more than a small white nightdress which was stuck to her body with the rain and offered no protection against the heavy Louisiana rainfall.

"Miss?...D-do you need help? Miss?" Travis approached the woman, whose long dark hair hung down her back. Her head was twitching, moving almost uncontrollably. "Miss?" Travis repeated as the figure slowly turned, a strange rattle reverberating from her. "Jesus…" Travis whispered as a lightning flash illuminated her horrifyingly pale and grotesque face, her smile forever etched in his memory as she cackled before him, throwing her head back into the air as a loud and monstrous laugh bellowed from within her. Travis stumbled backwards in the rain, falling into some deep mud but managing to climb out of it and race back to the car. He jumped into the vehicle, ignoring Courtney's multitude of questions as he focused his eyes on the road and the figure, who was now joined by a little girl, holding her hand, both snarling at the couple.

"Oh, my God…Travis! Travis, drive!" Courtney screamed as Travis put his foot down on the pedal, the tires revving hard in the muck. The car was propelled forward, headed straight for the disturbing duo who failed to move out of the way of the car. "No Travis, the little girl!" Courtney shouted, but Travis was sure they'd move out of the way. As the car raced towards them the little girl let go of the older woman's hand and stepped forward, her expression changing to one of fury and intense anger. She screamed, her entire body shaking like she'd explode into flames. A huge shockwave erupted from her body, sending the couple's car feet into the air and straight into the Louisiana bayou, knocking them both unconscious on impact.

Travis found himself awaking to a horrible pain rushing through his body, his eyes becoming accustomed to a worryingly unfamiliar environment. He tried to move, adrenaline filling his body, but found himself trapped, a shocking pain being expelled from his hands and feet. He looked down to find a sight he would never have expected. His feet had been nailed to a wooden cross and as he looked over at each of his hands he quickly realized he been crucified. "W-what's happening…" he cried out, pain aching its way through his lean body. He tried and tried again to free his feet and hands from the cross but the nails were deep and barely budged an inch. He could hear noises coming from outside the room he found himself in along with a bright light which seemed to come from a lantern of sorts. "Lucas...her gift...punishment…the woman…family…supper" were the only words he could hear clearly. He continued to try and free his hands and found himself feeling exhausted when, to his surprise, his right hand became free, the nail still embedded in the hand but no longer attached to the wooden cross.

Travis used his right hand to free his left and, more awkwardly, freed his feet as well but not without making a lot of noise in the process. "Shit" he said to himself, bringing himself up to his feet, pain shooting through his entire body. "I need to find Courtney". Travis pushed himself on, out through a door with a dead crow pinned to it. He could still hear noises from below, beyond the wooden steps. Travis hesitated, but the survival instinct and nightmarish thoughts about what could be happening to Courtney pushed him on. As he made his way down the steps his entire body shook and his legs went numb, causing him to stumble downwards and hit his head off the bottom step. "Shit, shit, shit" he panicked, his head throbbing, as a figure appeared near him, an older woman carrying a lantern as she crossed a bridge. "Where do you think you're going!?" she screeched, stomping her feet into the ground and rushing towards him.

"Oh shit!" Travis cried as he pulled himself up onto his feet and limped towards an opening in a nearby wall. He squeezed into the opening, just barely able to fit, as the older woman stopped and watched him. "There's no way out of there! Get back here you filthy cocksucker!" she screamed after him, howling like a demon as Travis forced his pain riddled body through the passage, centipedes and spiders falling down upon his head. He eventually made it to the other side and another room. Seeing an open door and the night sky, he sprinted out of the exit and, to his shock, quickly discovered he was right in the middle of a bayou with nowhere to run. "Wha…How?", he slumped against the door. Just then he heard a creaking behind him and turned around to be greeted by the same older woman's smiling face, her lifeless eyes staring into his very being, as she used the palm of her hand to knock him unconscious.

As he began to regain consciousness he once again found himself bound, this time to a chair as the clattering of plates and the screeching of knives and forks alerted him to the fact he wasn't out of this yet, the nightmare wasn't just a dream. "Look he's finally awake!" a younger man with a heavy Southern drawl jumped into his field of view before taking a seat alongside the older woman from before and an older man, presumably the father. "P-please…I just need…" Travis began but was cut off by the older woman: "It's time for supper! Ohhh can't you just taste it already" she withdrew from the dinner table to collect the 'supper' from the kitchen while the younger hooded figure laughed and pointed at Travis' vain attempts at breaking free from his binds. "Oink oink piggy! Say cheeeese!" Lucas shouted, taking a photo of Travis with Courtney's camera.

"Where is she!? What have you done with her you pig fucking bastards?!", the father figure immediately rose from the chair and charged at Travis, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his head back. "What did you just say, boy!? Because I'm a little hard of hearing but I could swear you just insulted my family at our very own dinner table" the older man took a knife from the table and held it threateningly close to Travis' left eye. "Come now, supper's ready!" the older woman appeared at the table and started handing out a plate of 'food' to each person, including the older man who she addressed as 'Jack'. Jack grunted and returned to his seat at the head of the table. The older woman stopped the son, 'Lucas', from eating, telling him they needed to say 'Thanks' first. The three bowed their heads, holding their hands together while the son continued to laugh at Travis. "Hush, Lucas!" the father said, and the son went quiet.

The older woman spoke: "For I was hungry, and ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me drink, I was a stranger and ye welcomed me, I was in prison and you visited me. We thank you for blessing us with your heavenly gift and may we all continue to prosper for many, many years to come. Amen" the older woman raised her head, followed by "Amen's" from the two males. "You're all crazy! Get me out of this fucking nightmare!" Travis pulled and pushed and ripped but the binds wouldn't break. "That is it! I've had enough of your bullshit, son! Give me that!" the father said, grabbing a bowl from the table and lunging at Travis, kicking his chair back onto the ground and lumbering above a still bound Travis. "You won't eat?! We'll make you eat!" the father smirked, taking a handful of 'food' from the bowl and shoving it into Travis' mouth, down his throat. Travis coughed and spluttered, vomiting a small amount of blood as the older man shoved another mouthful down his throat, followed by another, and another. He vomited more blood, the blood smearing his face and eyes, temporarily blinding him.

"There there!" the man mocked, patting him on his shoulder and pulling his chair back up from the ground. "Now you'll be one of us. Welcome to the family, son" the father said cryptically, before the phone rang from outside the room and he huffed loudly. "That goddamn phone!" he screeched, charging out of the dining room and into a hallway, muttering incomprehensibly along the way. The mother shoved her hands up into her hair and ripped a piece of hair from her scalp before pausing momentarily to stare at Travis. She stood up from the table and walked over to behind Travis' left before appearing again, this time wheeling an elderly woman in a wheelchair out of the room and into the hallway. Travis hadn't even noticed her before, and wandered whether she was there at all. The younger hooded man smirked at Travis with a 'knowing' grin, as if he was one step ahead. He got up from the table and followed the others, mockingly telling Travis "Don't go anywhere now, y'here".

He couldn't believe what was happening. What had just happened. His entire body felt…strange. He could still taste the 'food', the weirdly metallic tasting black substance that was forced down his throat. God knows what else was in there, and he didn't even want to think about it. When he was sure they weren't returning, he began to rip and pull at his binds once again, using all of the strength within him he freed one of his arms and used a knife on the table to free his other arm. "Need to…need to find…Courtney" he said to himself, limping into the kitchen and sneaking into the hallway, constantly looking over his shoulder and stopping every few feet so he could hear what was ahead of him. A phone ringing in the room under the wrecked stairs broke him from his paranoia, and he cautiously entered the room for fear that it could be a trap.

The laundry room, it seemed, was empty. Travis fell against the table with the phone and answered it, his breath wheezing. "Hello…I need he-" a woman's voice cut him off. "If you want to live, listen to me. To escape you need to get to the main hall down the hallway directly in front of this room. There you'll find a locked door leading to a yard. Now you'll need three dog shaped reliefs to get outta there. They won't be easy to find and my fami…they'll be looking for you. When you get to the yard, assuming you get to the yard, I'll contact you again. Good luck, you'll need it" she said, hanging up on him. "Hello?...Hello!?" Travis called out, but she was already gone. Travis took a handgun from the same table. "Five bullets…Ok, five bullets. You can do this, for Courtney. You can do this" he spoke with fear in his voice, but he knew he had to stay strong.

Travis exited the room and walked fast down the narrow hallway opposite the room, lightning illuminating the dimly lit hall. "C'mon, c'mon you bastards" he grunted, turning a corner and entering the main hall, and even darker and expansive area. He didn't like it. For all he knew someone could be watching him at any moment. Racing for the door leading to the yard he discovered the woman was telling the truth, the door was locked with indentations that resembled dog heads. 'Fuck', he thought before hearing a muffled scream coming from the floor above him. "Courtney!", Travis edged his way through the dark room, careful not to trip over any furniture or anything else that could be laying around. He heard the muffled scream again and found the room that the scream seemed to emit from, the door slightly ajar.

Travis didn't have time to question this as he raced into the room, finding Courtney tied to a large master bed, a cloth in her mouth, in what seemed to be an old-fashioned room. "I'm coming Courtney" he limped over to the bed and pulled the cloth from her mouth, tears rolling down her pale and slightly freckled face. "Travis it's a trap!" she screamed as he heard a creak in the floor behind him and turned, handgun in hand, to find 'Jack', wielding a large axe as he lumbered towards him. Travis immediately raised the handgun and fired at the man, emptying bullet after bullet into his torso and legs. "Now you gone and done it" the older man roared, storming at Travis who shot his final bullet right into Jack's head, causing the older man to have a sort of fit on the spot, spluttering from his mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell to his knees and onto the ground, seemingly dead. Travis took a moment to catch his breath before untying Courtney.

"Travis…Oh Travis! Thank God! Are you Ok? Did they hurt you…your face…you look so pale" Courtney worried, embracing her husband and holding his face in her slender hands. "I'm fine. But we need to get out of here. There's a door to the yard but it needs-" Courtney's face turned to one of horror as she looked over Travis' shoulder and jumped back onto the bed in horror, wailing like a banshee. "Travis!" she pointed to the previously incapacitated patriarch of the family who was now standing, very much alive, and snarling at the pair, patting the axe in his hand. "Oh you two ain't going nowhere" he bellowed, charging at Travis and grabbing him by the throat, tossing his body like a plaything over the bed and to the other side of the room. Jack turned his attention to Courtney as she tried to escape the room, grabbing her by the arm and throwing her back onto the bed. "Get away from her you sick fuck" Travis shouted, charging at Jack, and attacking him, landing punch after punch into the older man's face.

To his horror, the older figure just laughed at him. "Have to do better than that, son" he laughed, punching Travis in the face twice and kicking him to the ground, onto his back. Travis held his arm up to Courtney as she tearfully looked at her fallen husband. "Run", he mouthed, and his wife paused before making a break for the door, only to run straight into the younger man who spun her around on the spot and held a chloroformed rag to her mouth. "Sleepy sleepy goes the birdy" he muttered with a telling tone in his voice as he caressed her waist. Travis tried to crawl towards his wife, her outstretched hand seeming so far away. However, within moments, everything went black as Jack brought his boot down upon Travis' head.

Travis didn't know what happened next, but he awoke with a pounding head and an even sicker feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt _wrong_ and the damp and dark environment reminded him of how grave his situation was. "Where…" he groaned, as he quickly discovered he was hanging upside down, wrapped in a blood stained white plastic bag. Travis struggled and eventually pulled himself free, falling head first onto the cold hard concrete ground beneath him. The multiple body bags handing above signalled that he must have been kept where the family stored the rest of the corpses, left to die…or worse. A dog shaped relief hung from one, but he didn't have the time for that right now. Travis struggled to a staircase, finding an increasing amount of blood and gore as he continued. "Have to…urgh..." he felt like his body was rejecting him, falling apart and rotting from the inside out. His skin had turned a deathly pale with his veins black, moving beneath his skin as if they were trying to claw their way out. The pain was agonising and unbearable and he might have just crawled up and died if it wasn't for Courtney. "I'm going to find you baby…I promise" he limped up another stair and into a new part of what could only be the basement. Inhuman growls alerted him to the danger he was in. Luckily a knife embedded in a lump of what he hoped wasn't human meat gave him the smallest amount of hope that all wasn't lost.

Pushing his way through the depths of the basement he recognised a familiar black substance seeping and growing out of the wall. He didn't consider the consequences, he had to keep his mind focused on Courtney and only Courtney. As he turned a corner a part of the back substance fell apart, revealing a monstrosity with more teeth than could be counted. The creature stumbled towards him and Travis knew he couldn't fight it with a knife so he turned and limped for an exit, any exit, and way of getting away from that _thing._ Another monster appeared from seemingly nowhere, followed by another: this one much faster with multiple legs. Travis dodged a swipe that would have decapitated him and leaped past another as It lunged for him. He finally made it to a door, but failed to avoid a swipe across his back from one of the monsters, the pain rocking its way through his body and melting the skin where the claws made contact. His entire visage was smothered with blood but he forced his way through the door and slammed it shut behind him, just in time to avoid an attack from the crawling beast as it leaped for him.

It took everything he had to climb the stairs, ripping his nails into the wood to drag himself upwards, the monsters clawing and screeching behind him. "Courtney…Court…" he moaned and was surprised by his own voice, a certain very low pitch unnerved him. His body was changing, and he knew he didn't have much time left. Enough to help Courtney, at least. He fell into a room atop the stairs and acted quickly, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling down what she needed to know, what he couldn't tell her in person:

' _Dear Courtney,_

 _Those bastards are looking for me, but maybe this gives you a chance to escape._

 _To escape, you have to find the reliefs shaped like dog heads._

 _I saw one of the heads in the dissection room underground. Get it. It's the key out of here.'_

He spluttered and vomited all over the page and when he brought his hand up to his throat he felt something move, rippling its way down into his chest. He turned the page over and wrote his final words:

' _Something's wrong with me._

 _It must have been that shit they made me eat._

 _If I'm gonna die, I'd at least like to go out fighting._

 _I'm gonna get a hold of that shotgun I saw in the rec room and make them regret what they did to me._

 _You need to get out of here._

 _I love you, Courtney._

 _Love,_

 _Travis'_

Holding his stomach for fear of his intestines falling out, Travis resolved to get the shotgun and mow the entire family down until there was nothing left. He exited the room, his eye sight fading, his hands shaking and his spine feeling like it'd crack and snap into two, leaving him a blob on the floor. As he stumbled down the hallway and into the main hall everything went dim and he collapses to his knees. "Not…now…Courtney…" he cried out, his eyes crying tears of a black watery substance. "Well what do we have here?" the older man's voice echoed through the room. "Boy, you are pathetic" the older man appeared before him. "You put up a good fight, but you…" the older man raised a fist above Travis "are finished!" he said, punching Travis in the head and knocking him unconscious.

Travis awoke, a final time, in an enclosed and tight space, with no light whatsoever. He could barely move, only enough to shuffle from side to side and raise his arms slightly. "Help! Someone get me out of here!" he screamed, banging his fists against the steel repeatedly, clawing and scratching against the metal. Travis' screams would go unheard, trapped in a furnace, left to turn into yet another monster. "Don't worry" he heard the older man speak from outside the incinerator room. "My boy Lucas will take care of your darlin' wife. I hear he wants to play a few games with her!" the older man laughed, as Travis heard the furnace room door slam shut.

"Courtney!…Courtney!...Couuuurtney!..." his body slowly changed over time, the vomiting increased over time changing from blood to a black substance, his jaw would break apart and his skin peel away, revealing a black spongy mold located beneath. His body elongated, his bones snapping into fragments and his mouth ripping open, the pain forcing him to go unconscious for periods of time. Eventually his fingers broke away and he couldn't scratch at the metal any longer. His right arm split in two. The only thing that kept him going was Courtney, and because of that he remained alive and very aware for most of the transformation process.

Eventually after two days of agonizing pain, Travis submitted to the fact he was never escaping from the insane family's plantation, never going to see his wife or unborn baby, and his transformation into another nameless molded was complete. He would remain trapped within the furnace for many months, now completely converted but still aware, still trapped inside the creature that was once his body, still in pain. He remained this way until a man stumbled across him, and finally put him out of his misery for good.

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for the reviews and support! I really appreciate them. I loved Resident Evil 7 and the background so I decided to write short stories for characters mentioned in notes etc. The stories are longer than usual but some of the future ones I write will be much shorter! It might take me a while to update but I definitely will eventually so, again, thanks for the support! :)**


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